


Get Me Through This

by Epiphanyx7



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical, Medical Procedures, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-11
Updated: 2009-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 12:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/356762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epiphanyx7/pseuds/Epiphanyx7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stay down," Bones shoved him, one hand spread over Pavel's chest, holding him in place. "You can sit up when I tell you to sit up."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Me Through This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kink Bingo 2009. Pavel Andreievich Chekov / Leonard "Bones" McCoy. Medical Kink. (Well, sort of.) Title from the song "Semi-Charmed Life" by Third Eye Blind.

  


"It's only a mild burn," Bones said, dabbing salve carefully over the young Ensign's forearm. "But come back tomorrow so I can make sure you haven't gotten an infection." A quick boost of antibiotics to prevent that, and then he smiled and stepped back. "Off you go, Pavel Andreievich."

"Thank you," Ensign Pavel Chekov said, hopping off of the table in the infirmary.

"Be careful," Bones called after him.

-

Pavel wasn't clumsy, or anything, it was just that he was horribly unlucky. He could avoid danger all he wanted, but then he'd turn a corner and an escaped prisoner would clock him in the face. He'd be carefully making his way to a table in the cafeteria, preparing to sit down with Hikaru Sulu and Yeoman Janice, and someone else would bump into him, their soup spilling down his arm. It didn't matter how careful he was all day, because he could spend the entire time paranoid and jumpy and it wasn't until he was relaxed that something or someone would sneak up on him, and he'd end up in the infirmary.

His first off-world mission, supposedly to talk to a group of school-age children about the applications of advanced physics to practical careers in Star Fleet (they picked him because they thought he could relate. Pavel hated children, they were always emotional and wide-eyed and kept asking him "Why?" and he never had the heart to tell them to shut up and leave him alone) ended in disaster.

After the earthquake had trapped him in the school basement with the children, he'd been the one to have to try and open the air vents (harder than immediately apparent, because without power it's impossible to hack the system). Pavel had also been the one climbing to the top of the room's rubble pile, trying to dig out an insulin case for a crying seven-year-old.

It had taken six hours for the Enterprise crew to dig them out.

By then he'd been mostly delirious from hunger and exhaustion and blood loss, as well, his head wound seeping sluggishly. Any and all food he'd had on him had been given to the children, even the candy (because diabetes was a serious medical condition).

"All right there, Chekov?" Kirk had asked, one arm wrapped around his waist, taking most of his weight.

"Hello, Captain," Pavel slurred. "I think -- I ought to report to the Medical Bay. Perhaps." And then he collapsed.

-

"You know, I think you probably spend more time in here than you do in your own quarters," Bones said, smiling comfortingly down at him.

"I am not wer-- wver - v-ery lucky," Pavel replied, blushing and struggling to sit up.

"Stay down," Bones shoved him, one hand spread over Pavel's chest, holding him in place. "You can sit up when I tell you to sit up."

-

"I am going, I am going," Pavel said, raising his hands in the air in surrender.

"I'm really, really sorry," Ensign Shar, a round-faced biologist with the clumsiest hands in the galaxy said. "Really, really sorry, Ensign Chekov."

He was still dripping with the -- whatever it had been in the vials, before they'd broken on his skin. He could feel it burning in the scratches that the shattered glass had left on his shoulder and hands. "I will go to the Medical Bay, then." He said. "Do you know what was in the wials?"

"Oh, it was a vaccine," Ensign Shar replied sunnily, beaming. "For the Gorbolian Flu -- _Oh_."

-

The fever abated after three days, and even though he was still weak and shivering and sweating buckets, Pavel had never felt anything so wonderful as waking up and not being too hot or too cold.

"You really aren't all that lucky, are you?" Bones smirked over at him, laughing.

"I suppose that nobody has killed me yet," Pavel responded, smiling weakly. "That is lucky, no?"

-

"Do you ever have actually take the chance to sleep in your own quarters?" Bones asked, when Pavel had been forced to spend yet another night in the infirmary.

"It is not safe in my quarters," Pavel muttered. "Bad things can happen anywhere. You know, the only place I have not been hurt on this entire ship has been in here?"

Bones laughed. "I should permanently assign one of the interns to you," He grinned. "To follow you around and patch you up. Maybe then you wouldn't have to keep making the trip here."

"I like it here," Pavel said. "You make me laugh, and you do not hurt me even accidentally."

-

On his eighteenth birthday, Pavel had a small celebration in the cafeteria. The Enterprise had been sent on a covert mission to retrieve two scientists from a hostile situation, and they'd been successful. On their way out of the quadrant, right when Pavel had been about to blow out the candles on his chocolate birthday cake (mostly made from flavoured protein cubes) they were attacked by Klingons.

Chocolate icing smeared on his cheek and his uniform singed because of the fire (started, naturally, when a stumbling crewman pushed him into his own cake) Pavel realized that he was probably going to be needed on the bridge. He wasn't really all that hurt, after all, and the medical crew would be busy with people who really were injured.

"Sorry, man," Bones said, clapping him on the shoulder as he made his way out of the room. "Next time--"

The explosion rocked the whole ship, alarms going off high-pitched and sounding far too far off. The air was hazy with smoke, and Pavel had barely gotten his feet back under him when he saw the flames racing down the hallway. Bones, he thought, and threw himself at the older man, knocking him off of his feet.

The fire whooshed over them, sucking away all the air, so intense Pavel thought he was going to die.

-

He woke up in the infirmary, again, lying on his stomach this time. He tilted his head to the right, and Bones was standing by his bed, a funny expression on his face. "Hello," Pavel tried to say, but his voice was very scratchy.

"Don't move," Bones said, and then Pavel realized that his back hurt. A lot.

He sucked in a deep breath while Bones checked him over, but his uniform shirt had been melted onto his skin, and every single touch hurt. His fingers clenched tight in the sheets, Pavel tried to breathe and when that didn't work, he tried to lose consciousness again.

"Here," Bones gave him an injection of something - something wonderful, icy liquid spreading through his veins and leaving him feeling kind of soft and loopy. "This is going to help with the pain," he said, but Pavel was beyond that.

Bones' hands on his back were gentle, very gentle, and he was doing something that hurt quite a lot, but Pavel concentrated until all he felt was Bones, his hands touching the bare skin of his back. That was nice. Bones was nice. Great fellow, Doctor McCoy, he was always nice. Even when he was being mean, he was being nice. Most people didn't do that.

"That tickles," Pavel said, when bones had finished removing scraps of fabric from his back and was instead doing something else he couldn't see. It felt like a soft, dry cloth being dragged over his skin, over and over, Pavel's skin tightening in response. There was a word for the way his back felt - he just couldn't remember it, not with Bones still touching him.

"--Going to sting," Bones said, and then his hands were back with freezing cold gel on them, smearing it the burns.

Raw, that was the word, and he couldn't help but whimper, jerking upwards and back arching a little bit in pain. "Ah," Pavel whispered, forcing himself to relax. The gel did sting, after a minute, making his eyes water a little bit. His back was torn apart, raw and sensitive, and it seemed like the drugs were starting to wear off as well. Bones was being very gentle, his hands moving smoothly over Pavel's skin, slowly covering the burns on his shoulders and down over his sides as well.

"You didn't have to do that," Bones said, a minute later, hands smoothing over a burn on the back of Pavel's arm.

"Mmm?" He asked, a little bit confused.

"You didn't have to push me out of the way." Bones said. "You could have - stayed safe."

Pavel tried to twist around so he could see the doctor's face, squinting at him a little bit because of the awkward angle. "I could have," He said carefully. "But I did not want to."

"Ah," Bones said, more gel on his hands, working on the more severe burns down Pavel's back.

"You know, this is the first time I have been in the Infirmary that was not an accident," Pavel said. "Other times, people accidentally hurt me, yes? Well this time, I made the choice to push you out of the way. That was my decision, I did not have to make it, but probably I would have ended up in the Medical Bay no matter what; this way, you are here to put me back together again."

-

For a week afterward, Bones had to help Pavel out of his shirt when he came to the Medical Bay to have more salve put on his burns. Lifting his shoulders that high just hurt, and even though he'd been put back on light duty, reporting to the infirmary every day had become something that Pavel looked forward to.

Once Bones got him out of his shirt, he could sit on one of the infirmary beds and let the doctor smooth the salve over his back, carefully massaging it into his skin. Even though it hurt - a lot - it was still soothing, Bones running his hands over the tight muscles in his back, thumbs digging in sometimes to work the kinks out of his muscles.

Even when he'd healed enough to take off the shirt by himself, he liked to let Bones manhandle him out of it. It was kind of amazing, the way the doctor could strip him with ruthless efficiency, make him stand with his arms braced on the bed in front of him while the doctor rubbed salve over his skin. It still stung, a little bit, but Bones tried to heat it up with his hands first, now that there weren't other patients demanding his time.

"You could probably get someone to do this for you," Bones said suddenly, his hands splayed out over Pavel's lower back, warm against his skin.

"You _are_ doing it for me," Pavel responded, a little bit confused.

Bones paused for a second, then continued to rub the salve into the younger man's skin.

-

"The burns are almost gone," Bones said the next time he came in. "One more application, then come in next week for a check-up, okay?"

Pavel nodded, obedient as always, letting Bones' hands rub the salve into his back. He was selfish, he knew this, he was a selfish person for wanting this all the time, wanting Bones to touch him and make him feel better. Next week, he thought sadly, thinking about how much he was going to miss his daily backrub. And then perhaps not again.

Even with the usual bumps and scrapes, things that landed him in the Medical Bay for a quick fix and an opportunity to talk to the Chief Medical Officer, those usually ended without Doctor McCoy touching him at all. And Pavel had started to enjoy it, perhaps too much, but he was addicted to how lovely it felt when Bones spread the cool gel over his back, how much it relieved his pain, how careful Bones was when he touched him.

-

Six days later, he couldn't take it any more and stumbled to the infirmary, shaking, his eyes watering.

"Chekov," Bones said, eyes widening as he took in Pavel's form. "Good god, man, what's happened to you?"

"It hurts," Pavel mumbled, too tired to be more specific. He couldn't sleep at night, his back was knotted and tense and felt too hot.

"Here," Bones helped him onto one of the beds, a concerned furrow forming between his eyes. "Let me take your temperature - is it your back?" He turned around, rummaging through medical equipment for a thermometer. "Take off your shirt," he called over his shoulder.

Pavel tugged at the sleeve, his grip loosening when a sudden spasm of pain bloomed in his shoulder. His back seized, muscles locking, he bit his lip to stop himself from making noise and swore as loudly as he could in his head.

Bones turned back to him. "Chekov?"

"I can't," he whispered, miserable and embarrassed.

Bones frowned, leaning forward. He pulled on Pavel's arm, which refused to raise itself more than six inches, then dropped it again. "Hmm," he said.

Five minutes later, he was stretched out on the stiff mattress of the Medical Bay bed, his uniform shirt cut off of him in tatters. The only good thing about his current situation was that Bones was rubbing his back, not the salve he used for the burns but something warm and slippery instead.

The bad part was that it was excruciating, pain blossoming all over his back. Bones wasn't sparing him, either, his hands were merciless, pressing deep into the muscle hard enough to make Pavel clutch weakly at the synthetic polyester-plastic sheets, his eyes squeezed shut and watering. Breathe, he tried to remind himself, unable to control his lungs.

"Calm down there, kid," Bones said, rubbing warm hands down his spine.

Breathe, Pavel said, sucking in a slow, deep breath. He tried to hold it but couldn't, the doctor's thumbs pressing into his shoulder blades and all his air disappeared in an agonized whoosh. He gasped and shuddered and mostly tried to keep silent, biting his lip as palms were pressed into his sore, aching muscles.

"Looks like there was damage done to the fascia in your shoulders and thorax," Bones grunted. "I'm sure the situation will resolve itself in time, but the superficial burns have reduced your mobility and the muscles aren't contracting as much as they ought to without strain, which is why you've been experiencing pain. Also, Ensign, you can consider this an order: If you are _ever_ in that much pain again, I expect to see you in the Medical Bay _immediately_."

An eternity later, and it was a lot better, his muscles were relaxed enough that it didn't hurt really. Pavel inhaled as slowly as he could, letting out the shaky breath when he realized that he could even move a little bit.

Bones continued to work on his back, slowly massaging him from his shoulders to the base of his spine and then back upwards, each repetition reducing the amount of tension Pavel was harboring. It was - nice.

And then he realized just how nice it felt, and Pavel could feel his muscles tensing again.

Strong, callused hands ran down his back, digging into the heated sore muscles, stroking and rubbing. It was - a little rough, a little fast, but leaving trails of pain-free relief behind them. Warm, liquid something that made those hands slide a little bit smoother over his skin, heating up wherever he was touched, making his muscles want to melt, want to relax.

Pavel couldn't help but tense in response, his muscles tightening all over. This type of reaction was not - not normal, not for when he was in pain. And the doctor - Bones, not just any doctor, but Doctor McCoy - did not mean for him to react like this.

But even so, with him face-down on the bed, breathing softly into the pillow, Dr. McCoy was touching his back and Pavel was aroused, painfully so, he could feel it in his toes. And the doctor was still touching him, rubbing intently at his lower back.

And then.

His fingers --

Trailed upwards, stroking, barely touching his skin, just the barest hint of fingertips dragging up his sides. Pavel shivered.

Doctor McCoy began to massage his neck and shoulders, slowly, fingers digging gently into Pavel's hairline, squeezing over his deltoids.

Pavel tried to muffled the noises his mouth was making without his permission. Laws of thermodynamics, he thought to himself. Recite the laws of Thermodynamics -- and Dr. McCoy was talking, right, pay attention to that too.

"Every other day," He finished, and Pavel had to run through his memory very quickly to catch the beginning of that thought.

A massage every other day. 

"Are you-- sure," Pavel breathed, trying not to moan when steady pressure smoothed over his shoulder blades.  


"I'm a _doctor_ , not a comedian." Dr. McCoy muttered.

"Yes," Pavel agreed, jerking a little bit when Bones dug fingers into the muscle between his shoulder blades. He felt hot all over, fingers clawing at the sheets, resisting the urge to twist his hips and give himself some much-needed friction.

It was -

His _hands_ -

Pushing onto his sore, tortured back until Pavel wanted to scream. It was just - intense - and something else as well, slick wet strokes over his too-sensitive skin, caresses that felt like a whisper. He was trembling, anxious, biting down on his lip hard enough to taste coppery blood.

 _You should not be enjoying this, Pavel Andreievich_ , he told himself while Dr. McCoy's fingers made him shudder and jerk, hips seeking something that wasn't coming. _You should not._ A soft, helpless moan escaped his lips.

Dr. McCoy's fingers skidded to a stop. "Are you all right?" He asked.

"Fine, fine," Pavel hissed. "Is fine." 

"If you'd like, I can give you a mild analgesic," Bones offered. "To help with the pain."

 _Is not the pain that makes me moan_ , Pavel thought, mumbling something about disliking unnecessary medications that hopefully didn't sound too suspicious. The doctor continue massaging his back, trying to be gentle. The lighter touch was meant to be less painful, but it only made things worse, emphasizing the sweet torment Pavel was suffering.

He buried his face in the warm cloth covering the mattress, his muscles tensing with every touch.


End file.
